


Shadows & Moonlight

by Impala_Dreamer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bittersweet, M/M, Romance, drunk!Sam, sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23105188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Dreamer/pseuds/Impala_Dreamer
Summary: ~Some nights they liked to sit out on the hood of the Impala and watch the stars…passing a bottle of whiskey between them…~
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester, Sam/Dean, Wincest
Kudos: 42





	Shadows & Moonlight

It was a warm night.

They sat on the hood of the Impala, silently passing the bottle of Jack back and forth. There was a slight breeze that echoed through the surrounding pines, but otherwise the world was quiet. There were no screams in the dark, no monsters lurking; there was just the moon and the whiskey, and for a moment, everything was fine.

Dean stretched out, locking his hands behind his head as he lay back against the windshield. He cast his eyes to the stars and sighed, content and relaxed. “This is nice,” he murmured; a gentle smile painted on his face.

Sam hummed in agreement, pink lips wrapped around the bottle, drinking more than his share on that round. He felt oddly happy; momentarily forgetting that Lucifer was actively trying to get under his skin, that Dean would probably have to kill him, that the fate of the planet rested on their shoulders. He couldn’t think on that stuff tonight, there was just something in the air, something in the way the stars were so perfectly clear and aligned that made it all seem…okay.

“Maybe you’re just drunk,” he whispered to himself, logic telling him that was the only explanation for not being balled up in the fetal position sobbing.

Dean turned his head to Sam and laughed. “I’m not drunk.” He reached for the bottle, but Sam took another long pull; whiskey splashing down his chin as Dean tugged it away. “But you seem to be close.”

“I’m not drunk,” Sam managed to say with a straight face. “I’m just happy.” He shrugged and smiled, rocking slighting towards Dean. “You’re happy too. We’re all happy.”

A sad smile made Dean’s dimples pop and he nodded. “I guess so.”

“You’re not?”

Dean took a quick sip. “I really don’t want to think about it right now, Sammy. Let’s just enjoy the quiet.”

Long fingers snatched the bottle back and Sam drank it down like water.

The sky was free of clouds, the field they parked in hidden from the world; no lights to hide the stars, no eyes to hide their feelings from.

Sam took to staring, hazel eyes locked on his brother’s face. It was shadows and moonlight, sharp lines and gentle curves. The turn on his lashes, the break in his nose; he was a masterpiece in the moment, and Sam could not tear his eyes away.

Dean blushed under the attentive gaze but played it off like it didn’t excite him. He raised a sly brow and shot a look at Sam. “Can I help you with somethin’?”

Sam startled. “What?”

“You’re staring at me.” Dean’s lip curled on the side and he tugged the whiskey from Sam’s paw. “You’re cut off,” he teased.

Sam didn’t resist, letting the bottle go without protest. “You can take it,” he said softly. “Not gonna keep me from looking.”

Dean’s stomach flipped. “You’re drunk.”

Again, Sam agreed. “Yes. But doesn’t change the fact that you’re-”

“That I’m what?” Dean turned his head fully and looked Sam dead in the eye. “I’m what, Sam?”

Sam’s heart skipped too many beats and raced to catch up, choking him suddenly. He looked into perfect green eyes; the same eyes that had always been there, keeping him safe and keeping him sane.

Dean licked his lips slowly and tried again, whispering, “I’m what?”

“You’re beautiful,” Sam answered finally, shocked by how smooth his voice was, how sure he sounded. You weren’t supposed to say things like that, not to your brother; but it was true. Dean was beautiful, he should know.

Dean blushed right up to his ears and took a deep breath. “Shut up.” He tried to find something else to say, a snappy comeback that would knock Sam’s head back on straight, but he couldn’t think over the butterflies in his gut, the dramatic drumming of his heart.

“You are,” Sam assured. He rocked forward a bit, stopped by his crossed legs, and licked his lips. “Just…beautiful.”

Dean let out a hot breath through puffed cheeks, his lips puckering as he played for time. “Just beautiful?” He laughed, trying to break through the tension. “Not funny, smart, brave?”

Sam shook his head.

“Oh come on,” Dean protested. “I’m hilarious.” He looked away and took a drink from the bottle, closing his eyes as he tipped his head back. When he came back down and opened his eyes, Sam was closer, kneeling next to him, gaze transfixed on his neck.

“Not tonight,” Sam told him, “tonight, under the moon…” He paused to kick his lips slowly as desire coursed through his veins. “Tonight, you’re simply beautiful.”

Dean gave up trying to resist, caught in the sensual way Sam curled his words. They were deep and true, swirling around in Dean’s head until all he could do was breathe and blink. “Yeah?”

Sam cocked his head slowly and lifted his left hand, letting its shadow dance across Dean’s cheek. “Yes.”

Every inch of Dean was screaming suddenly, except for his lips that simply fell apart, gaping at the moment, unable to move. He stared at Sam, frozen by years of longing, beaten down by a lifetime of taboo. He wanted nothing more than for Sam’s fingers to fall and warm his skin.

Heaven ignored Dean’s prayer, but it was answered anyway.

Sam’s fingertips dented Dean’s cheek as he leaned close. Breath mixed together, lips crashed.

Dean held his breath as Sam massaged his lips, sucking with a sweet pressure that made Dean’s heart race. It was so gentle, so slow, so simple, yet it drove Dean wild. He closed his eyes and let his brother take what he wanted, holding on with a soft hand at the nape of his neck. He twirled his fingers through the fine hair beneath the mane, and exhaled a happy sigh as Sam backed away.

“Why now, though, seriously?”

Dean hadn’t meant to ask, to say anything really, but his brain was a mush of whiskey and Sam’s tongue. Sam blushed and dipped his chin. When he looked up, Dean gasped at the universe reflecting in his gem-like eyes.

“Why?” he asked again, fingertips still burning on Sam’s skin.

Sam shrugged and tried to look away. “I’m drunk.”

“No,” Dean insisted, grip digging in to dent his flesh. “Don’t do that.”

Sam sighed and looked back, thin lashes fluttering as he stared into Dean’s eyes. He bit his lip, thinking, trying to arrange the words in the right order. “Because we’re probably going to die soon,” he said after a beat. “And I didn’t want to die again without knowing what that felt like.”

Dean licked his lips and clenched his jaw, holding a wave of tears at bay. “We’re not gonna die, Sammy,” he whispered. “I promise you that.”

“You don’t know.”

The dam broke and Sam chewed his cheek, refusing to even blink lest the tears flow. He shook his head sadly, but Dean wouldn’t let him fall too far.

“I do know,” he said firmly, sliding his hand around to lift Sam’s chin with his crooked index finger. “You trust your big brother, don’tcha?” Dean flashed a cocky smile and Sam gave a little laugh, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I trust you.”

“So, don’t worry about it. Not tonight.” Dean let him go and reached around for the bottle. “Tonight’s for whiskey.” He took a drink and held it out for Sam.

“Just whiskey?”

The twinkle was back in his hazel eyes and Dean coughed as his cheeks burned. Their fingers brushed as Sam took the booze and Dean sucked in a quick breath.

“Calm yourself, Sammy. We got all night.”


End file.
